


Be My Light, My Kryptonite

by Being_Delirious



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Dreamhalo, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Gang Violence, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, Hidden Truth, Kidnapping, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Violence, Other, Threats of Violence, Violence, light fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Being_Delirious/pseuds/Being_Delirious
Summary: The world that endeavoured with the dark is the most dangerous place you'll get to exist in.The only rule? Don't get caught.BadBoyHalo was left struck, hopelessly worried for his best friend that got into a tragic accident. He was left with the option of selling their long-planned shop and risk going in debt, and he badly needed the money to pay for Skeppy's hospital bills.Left with no other choice, he agreed to accept the help that was given to him by his old friends... is he supposed to call them friends? Why are they doing this?
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Darryl Noveschosch, Darryl Noveschosch & Everyone, F1NN5TER & Darryl Noveschosch, GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot, Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	1. 'The Shadow World'

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly focused on Bad and Dream, if you came here for DNF then I suggest you re-read the tags, thank you!^^
> 
> (further tags or relationship will be added as the story progress.)
> 
> This part is to introduce you guys the concept of what I meant by Shadow World, the real first chapter will be out sometime next month.

In a city where the lights get dimmer and the roads get lonelier. Every civilian with no correlation are intended to keep low, stay quiet and pray no shadow dwellers would take an interest for when the clock hits 10 and all the streets are isolated, it was time for the gangs to play.

Shadow hours is a much understandable term. From ten o'clock to seven in the morning, the hounds come up to play; the riches, the bosses and every mob men are hungry for power. It was their field, their chance to get what they wanted in a way they couldn't during daylight hours. 

Gang fights, assassinations, stealing from other gangs, gunshots and duels, you name it. It's a game of roulette where everybody gambles with their life on the line. You'll either survive with thrice the amount of money you wished or be discovered dead in an alleyway; there would be no police to call for help.

The only rule? Don't get caught. 

* * *

> The 'Shadow world' was created purposefully for the people who settle on violence to set free. It's an eye for an eye, a chance for members of all factions to negotiate business deals or put an end on the thorn by their side. 
> 
> It's similar to the Purge but slightly altered and only for ten hours every night. 
> 
> Of course, there are boundaries. If a shadow dweller ever decides to include a civilian on the battlefield, they are to be hunted and detained by the government. They shall not touch anything that's nonbeneficial for their cabal. Robberies that are to happen to the government's property are out of touch. 
> 
> The Shadow World is for gangs; not criminals. When you are not a part of a faction and you decide to join in their 'playground' best believe that you are to be killed. Shadow dwellers have significant tattoos of their respective clan as to avoid confusion. 

And when the clock hits seven, the shadow world vanishes. The roads are once again to be filled with civilians of all ages. The police come out and are left to catch whatever Shadow dweller that is left in the open. The life goes on, normalcy prompts back and it was as if no gunshots were fired that night.


	2. (01) An Unfortunate Event

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not you too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed the tags!!!

**T** hey used to be friends.

They promised to stay together till the end.

But fame does wonders to people, especially to those you expected the least.

The world that endeavoured with the dark is the most dangerous place you'll get to exist in.

A crowd; a group of paparazzi. It followed them in every corner they go, ready to catch in an even single slip-up. Bright flashes of lights, the sound of cameras going off blended in with the cacophony chatters of people all around. All of them waiting for a specific group;

The Dream Team, the world's known richest group of the century. One that had sent the economy into shambles, frightened at how fast they've grown. It both amazes and angers everyone from left to right. Some say it's the use of witchcraft, others say it was mostly luck and no skill. Whatever it was, one thing's for sure. 

They are on top of the game and has power over other business groups and promising places. It was a dangerous sense of hierarchy. A game of cat and mouse with the rest of the shadow dwellers. Who leads gets the strings, pulling it at their command.

Parking out the side, the spotless limousine was soon caught by the media. Getting out, a chauffeur went ahead and opened the group's door in a fluid fashion. The first to step out sporting a bright, innocent grin, was Sapnap, the youngest of the three. At first glance, one would think he was too childish; too naive for the responsibility the world awaits him.

Many had underestimated his sense of street intelligence. Witty and diligent, known for his 'out-of-the-box' thinking. The man behind the propaganda, the key to all partnership; either to seduce, charm or befriend their beneficial competitors. Most people call him The Negotiator.

He faced the world head-on with confidence, passing a wave towards the cameras with a slicked-back hair and a teasing smile. 

Next one out of the car, in his blue plaid suit, was none other than GeorgeNotFound. A man with explicable skills when it came to statistics and formulas. Innocent looking, yet feisty. He's the pretty face that wooed all humans alike no matter how the goggles on top of his head stuck out like a sore thumb; contradicting the rest of his professional outfit.

It is said that he handles both financial and the code. His quirks and snarky remarks are what most claimed to have charmed them, yet he remained to look so uninterested when in came the outside chaos.

Lastly, the man who lead and studied the system. One might say he was the embodiment of luck with the way his golden locks sported to a slicked-back crusade or perhaps the most skilled puppeteer. Equally feared and adored. Dream, in his dark suit and light green tie, eyes glinting in a cruel simper.

He was rumoured amongst the people to be the one most involved in the shadow world. The backbone of their whole company, yet no evidence was presented to clarify. Nobody else had seen his full face, it was either the whole or the lower half was always covered with a plain white mask with a smiley-face printed on the front. 

It looked friendly enough yet everyone with common sense would see the visible red flags that surrounded him. He was not someone to be fucked with.

They sauntered through with the guards standing around in an attempt to keep the paparazzi away. Trying to grab their attention and answer some of the most burning questions out there. It seemed desperate, just a single sentence is all it needs for them to put up on their headlines.

"What is it like when you first started your company?"

"What's on your take to the rumours?"

"How do you manage your business with three people?"

Every mic came up, calling for their names in hope that they would be given the chance to get the story they need for their blogs and articles. One reporter, Alice Mandarin - as written on her nametag - managed to turn her body around in time to stand out from the rest.

Feeling mysteriously generous for the day, the leader of the group decided to step back, straying behind with a smirk when he saw the bright gleam on her eyes. With the others noticing his intention, the two stood back to wait for the blond man. 

She saw her chance at the latter and without wasting another heartbeat, Alice whipped out the question that burned at the edge of her tongue. "Aside from the other guys, was there anybody else that helped you reach the top of the ladder?"

Nobody saw the way Dream's brows twitching and a light frown placing behind the white mask. The movement was swift, clean and short that he immediately brought up a friendly persona. Dream leaned closer to the mic that's being offered to him, stark green eyes flickering towards the camcorder that focused on his face. 

"No. The boys and I were the only ones responsible for our success. We didn't need any help—"

The channel was changed to football in the middle of the blond's answer. Startled by the sudden change, Bad jumped when he turned around to be met by the infamous poker face of his best friend, Skeppy. It didn't amuse the tanned boy when he caught Bad staring at the screen that hung at the top corner of their coffee shop. In fact, he absolutely hated it when his friend had to watch one's lie through his teeth.

Bad sighed. Adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, he knew it has been at least a year or two since he and the other have mysteriously broken up, but the sting of the past didn't fade away from him. The worst of it all, Skeppy held a grudge in his behalf. 

"Sgeppy—" Bad reached up to try and ruffle the other man's jet-black hair. It didn't work when Skeppy dodged it with a disappointed huff.

"Bad, we've talked about this." And they have, much to Bad's dismay.

The brunette groaned. Squeezing around the tanned male, Bad went on with his task of wiping the tables that were already cleaned minutes ago. All to avoid his best friend's scolding.

Overall, the place was spotless as it can be. Wooden round tables with a matching aesthetically pleasing chairs that fit with the whole classic California outlook they tried to mimic. 

Large window panes with rolled up blinds to view the outside city as their customers enjoy their carefully brewed coffee inside. Near the windows were red cushioned chairs facing each other with a mini square table in between.

At the very middle wall behind the counter, Finnester stood in his preferred outfit for the day. A polka-dot dress that looked like it came from the '90s and a diligent make over, ready to take customers' orders. 

Munchy'nCoffee has grown relevant over the years. A dream Bad once thought wasn't achievable had proven to be possible thanks to an anonymous recommendation for their place. Now, it wasn't like they earned a lot by it but it was enough to help payout the rent as well as keep their friends close, offering them a spot to work in the cafe.

Both Spifey and TapL worked as their barista, happily chatting in the kitchen; Mega and Zelk are Bad's co-bakers, constantly bickering with each other by throwing flour or other messy ingredients available; Finnester and Vurb who're both their cashiers. The perfect duo for greeting and chatting with new and old faces that entered; Last but not the least, Skeppy the co-owner and the one in charge of handling the finances.

It was a dream come true for Bad and Skeppy as they had always wished to build a place that will hold friendships in a never-ending seam. Sure, they almost went bankrupt a couple of times, but they pulled through with positive energy, hard work and teamwork.

A quick break from the previous rush hour, Bad manoeuvred around the tables in an attempt to weave out of the oncoming lecture that would come down on him. He knows his best friend and he knows that the latter can read him like an open book in a field.

"I know what you're about to say, Skeppy, and don't worry, I'm fine! It's just—" the brunette glanced outside to avoid the doubtful look on his best friend's eyes, "I haven't seen their faces for months."

"You haven't seen them in person for _years_ , Bad." Skeppy returned with a softer than expected tone.

In exhaustion and stubbornness, BadBoyHalo faced him with crossed arms and a pout. They were lucky that there were very few customers around to snoop and the rest are out back on their breaks except for Finn who was busy checking up on his nails at the counter. 

Just to be sure, Bad reached out, grabbing his friend's bowtie to 'fix' it but actually doing it just so it can only be them to hear his response.

"Skeppy, I know and I'm telling you, it's alright. I'm alright, okay?" He spoke all the while avoiding the unconvinced male who instead furrowed a frown. Bad rolled out a sigh. "How about this... I'll never watch anything relating to them ever again. Deal?"

Skeppy stepped back and copied Bad's previous actions by crossing his arms in a sassy position, "That's what you said last time!" he argued; hands raising. 

"Look, look, Skeppy, alright? Let's not argue on who killed who... m'kay?" he began shrugging it off with a touch of a nervous smile, "Here, since we're running out of basic supplies, I'm going to get a quick run to Urso's grocery and buy us some refill for the shelves at the back." if there was one thing Bad was good at it was the matter of avoiding serious topics.

After all, dodging is one of his specialities. A master of making up excuses right on-spot and Skeppy knows this. One could never reason with the brunette so all Skep can do is agree in a defeated tone.

Having found a chance to flee, Bad was quick to take off his apron, handing it to Skeppy along with an almost sympathetic yet reassuring smile. Ruffling his best friend's forever messy hair, Bad uttered out a grateful, "thank you" before heading out of their cafe.

It was in the hour of the day where almost all functioning humans with underpaying salaries are stuck in their either okay or shitty jobs. School lunch has just finished and classes are back on track eliminating the possible good students that don't wanna get suspended from being outside and roaming. In a broad daylight where busy humans are equivalent to a less crowded street in LA. 

It's a plus for BadBoyHalo, honestly. Getting away from the intended confrontation and being able to walk the streets with less fear of pick-pockets or bumping against other people. He looked up, maybe he can buy himself pickle chips in addition as a treat? Bad weakly chortled as he rounds up a corner.

Nearing a pedestrian lane, Bad looked up at the traffic light that glowed red, a sign not to pass. The timer ends in fifteen, fourteen, thirteen... and ah, just enough time. Lucky for Bad, the nearest store was just a few blocks away which gives him enough walk to clear out his mind. Enough for a breather and delete whatever response Dre—Bad shook his head. No, he promised Skeppy.

Don't get him wrong, he loves Skeppy. He's been literally friends with him for over five years now. Heck, they co-own a shop together! What other reason was there to not like the noir-haired man? Sure, he can be a little too much. Always taking joy on annoying the ever-loving muffins out of him in every chance the he gets—but in the end, Bad knows it's all good fun. 

Lightly chuckling, Bad took out his wallet to check if he has enough money to buy Skeppy a pizza. Maybe the others would appreciate it as well. Lost in his thoughts, the young man noticed movement by his peripheral vision and took this as a sign that people around him began walking, opting that the timer has gone down. 

What type of pizza would Skeppy want? Pepperoni? Hawaiian? Does he even have enough cash for it? Bad absentmindedly moved slower, distracted with counting cash in his head and on which pizza would make it up for his best friend. 

"Bad!" There was a yell. 

Someone's calling for him. He knows the owner of this voice... did Skeppy follow him all the way from the shop? Maybe he forgot to tell him that he wants to pitch in as well. Bad stopped, glancing back to sedate his curiosity.

"BAD!" 

Oh, there was another. A louder and more frantic one than the last. 

And before Bad knows it, he was forcibly pushed forward. The force sent him toppling over the curb; glasses knocked off his face. The sudden flare of pain on his body ricochet. He squinted his green eyes, trying to see if he could grab his fallen glasses off the ground. Wherever it was. Past the deafening thin noise, a cacophony of gasps and hushed voices breached his ears and it only made his heartbeat spike faster from the adrenaline rush. 

After a few seconds of blinking twice, he soon realised that a stranger held up his fallen glasses for him. Without even saying thank you, he quickly snatched it out of the stranger's hand, hastily putting it back on as he whipped around to check the main attraction of every bystander around him. 

He wished he hadn't; He hoped that whatever the unsettling senses in his gut would go away.

It didn't. It didn't and he regretted it far too late.

In front of him, splayed in an ungraceful position, was his best friend that was just in his head a moment ago. "Ske... Skeppy?" Bad stuttered. The blood in his veins ran cold and all unwanted sounds turned to nothing but white noise. Forest green eyes stuck wide, wanting to blink but at the same time scared of what he might see if he dared close his eyes for a millisecond. Like painting water on a white canvas, his mind went blank. 

And just like that, his whole world came crashing down. He rushed forward, crouched down next to his fallen buddy with hands on his mouth. "No, Skeppy, no. I can't lose you too." Bad let out in a whisper, a broken sob escaping his throat whilst frantically shaking his head.

Unable to hold the unconscious man in the risk of accidentally causing more damage than good. All the brunette could do was scream out a hoarse cry in hopes of maybe, just maybe, every person around him has called the paramedics.

He doesn't understand. Why was Skeppy even there in the first place? Why was he hit? Why was he the one on the floor?! When it suddenly clicked, Bad forgot how to breathe. He isn't sure how or when, but he knew that it was Skeppy who pushed him out of harm's way. It was his best friend. His dearest, broken, motionless best friend.

"No..." Tears fell faster when he caught a glimpse of the open wound on Skeppy's forehead. Bruised and bleeding, pooling out around them and painting the road a new colour. 

"SKEPPY!"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it for a first chapter? OwO?


	3. (02) An Unexpected Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This meeting seems to be a lot more important than Bad had anticipated.

Constant, steady beeps in every five seconds filled the void; the whizzing noise the machines emitted serves as the only ambience of the gloomy room. A green line goes up, down, up and down; the number of heartbeats written and changing in each second that ticks by, never knowing; always anticipating a sudden change.

It had been two days... Two days since that fateful wreck. It was a miracle that Skeppy even survived the accident with very little major injuries. A blessing from an unfortunate event indeed. It, however, did not change the fact that the whole surgery costs them a large number of sums to pay.

BadBoyHalo read it, once, twice, thrice - multiple times over - and yet it still risked the jobs of their friends. If he were to use the earnings they've gathered, he was going to miss paying at least two-months worth of taxes. Bad also knew he couldn't risk cutting off his friends' salaries, they too were also barely tipping the line of getting evicted. 

$564, 200.14

Like ink on skin, the numbers burned hard into his brain. It nagged him to no end, printing the digits over and over every thought that process in his head. It made the brunette plunge harder into a sea of ice, pushing him into the brink of unwanted breakdown. 

When the rest found out about the accident, they had chosen to close the shop early in favour of making sure that Skeppy was making it out alive, leading them to completely miss out on potential customers. Bad forced a grin and a wave, making statements for comfort when he barely believes it himself. 

"Skeppy is now stable. Don't you worry guys, he's a tough muffinhead! I'm sure he'll recover fast—just you wait."

And just he waits indeed. 

Waiting, sitting, checking... inside a room with nothing but the sounds of working monitors and sight of extended tubes inserted inside his best friend's body in a way he never imagined him to be in. It was a painful sight to see; a horrible memory to live. When someone you dearly love is hooked up into machines that serve to monitor whether or not their body is doing its best to survive.

Bad winced at the sight: a concussed head, broken arm, bruised torso; Purple face and a cast around his neck. Bad was deeply relieved that Skeppy would not at least be harbouring any permanent damage - maybe for a few years and a scar to the side - but it was good enough. He's breathing and that's good enough.

Head down, hand tightly holding Skeppy's, Bad swallowed yet another sob down his throat. He isn't going to lie, he can't lie. He's scared. Scared that he almost lost another best friend; scared that he'll lose the cafe he and the others had worked hard on; scared to watch everyone and everything he dearly loves disappear one by one.

The image of Skeppy surrounded by his own pool of blood, twisted arm and bloodied clothes was enough to create a repeating pattern of nightmares for Bad to stay up. It wasn't fair - It was not fair for Skeppy to be there in time. To save him in time, to be nested in those bundles of excruciatingly white sheets - none of it is fair!

Earlier that morning, one of their friends, a certain Filipino, had gone up to Bad with a dimmed expression. Seeing this, the brunette already knew that whatever news he was about to receive, it wouldn't be worth it.

TapL had offered. He was willing to look for another job if it meant using his supposed salary to pay for Skeppy's bills. That is if Bad accepted his resignation letter. Of course, Bad did not. He couldn't help but feel the sense of disappointment and failure that echoed in his soul as he was faced by the fact that their friends are willing to give up their entire income when it wasn't supposed to be. 

The cafe was built and solidified by using the power of their bond together. It's the sole reason that they stood out from the rest. That wonderful sense of home and comfort, the positivity that they spread whenever a customer visits. What would become of the place if they were to lose that hold? It wouldn't be the same if one were to disappear.

"No, TapL, don't worry, alright? I'll– I'll be sure to find a way. I promise you, we won't lose the shop and we won't lose Skeppy. Just give me time, Tap, we'll make it through this."

Would they really? The last time Bad checked, they're plunging in debt for the next month. He doesn't know anyone he can ask for money from and Skeppy hasn't woke up yet.

Running his hands through his best friend's black hair, Bad held Skeppy's better arm close. 

"Skeppy, I need you. Please wake up." a stifled sniff, "I don't know what to do."

His voice croaked from all the crying he did. He felt empty. Lost in an endless void; an escapable room that slowly shrinks inwards with every fleeting thought he lets roam. A bitter taste of regret and guilt coursed through his veins as dull green eyes remained still, gaze kept on the unconscious man tucked in bed. 

A vibration by his pocket, the sound of a phone ringing pierced through the tensed layers of air. It dragged his mind off his previous murky thoughts, setting him back to the dreadful reality he was in.

Fishing out the said object, Bad winced from the sudden brightness of his phone, squinting through his scratched glasses as forest-green eyes adjusted to the new light.

It was a call from an unknown number.

How peculiar... to receive an ambiguous phone call at dusk of the day. Perhaps it should've been a proven red flag by then but bearing a tired mind and groggy actions, Bad only pinched the bridge of his nose before answering with exhaustion.

"Hello?"

Maybe it was their landlord? No... the beast has his phone number written down in the logs. Perhaps one of their friends calling from another phone to check up on them? Possible but highly unlikely; Either a family member who heard about the news or a completely wrong number.

Whoever it was that the brunette thought, sleep-deprivation seemed to catch up on him, secretly wishing it was exactly a wrong number and would be able to hang up right after.

"Hello, is this BadBoyHalo?" 

No. It can't be. 

He didn't wanna believe it at first. Not when after all the years that passed by from the sudden disconnect. It just didn't make any sense. A tower of Jenga barely adding up from every risky move the player makes. Highly alert yet still keeping calm, Bad mentally took a deep breath, a way to slowly wake himself up from his groggy state.

He tentatively answered. "Hi, yes. This is BadBoyHalo speaking... who's asking?"

There was only silence. For a while, Bad thought that it was all in his head. That it was indeed just a wrong number—

"Wow, Bad, it's only been a couple of years and you forgot who I am already?"

If he were fast enough, the chair he had been sitting on would've been knocked out of balance from the quick turn of events he got. He wasn't hallucinating - not this time, at least - for it was indeed Sapnap on the other end of the call.

After the abrupt movement, his grip on his phone tightened. Eyebrows furrowed as multiple layers of emotions resurfaced all at once. Stunned, relief; mad, glad; frustration and confusion. It came to him like a whirl of a hurricane. Slapping him on the face with an unbelievable force that had his mind thrown out, running a mile a second.

It didn't make any sense! None of it. Left in cold-sweat and feeling indignant, Bad scoffed. 

"It's been long enough." Four? Almost five? Honestly, who's keeping track? They don't communicate and it's been made very clear that they wanted nothing to do with him. Not anymore.

He heard a click of a tongue and then, "Touche, Bad, touche..." 

The response sets a fire within his soul. The grip around his phone tightened and it took a lot in him to not let the flames spread. Who was he to come back calling into his life after being dropped and left just like that? Who are they to shut the doors on him then expects him to open it back for them? 

With that simplistic, casual response, it just stings the open wounds in Bad's heart. It's as if the years and bond they had meant nothing. Left in the dust and forgotten.

After a beat and a slight shuffle on the other end, a familiar Brit's voice broke through, 

"We'll be getting right into the point. We need to talk to you, Bad." it was straight and stern; no more games, "In person."

It caused the said-man to take a sharp breath, the feeling in his gut coiling in utmost disbelief as he scoffed, "Oh, yeah, yeah, just go silent on me for a couple of years and come back asking to meet up. Sure, whatever. That's completely fine for BadBoyHalo because we can always pretend as if everything's okay." he spat the words out like it was venom, adding a bitter eye-roll in the mix.

"So, you know what? No, no! No, I would not meet up with you. What, just cause you all are some big hotshots means you'd get to have everything you want?" Bad huffed with annoyance, a forced laugh coming out. He was ready to end the call right there and then when another voice spoke from the other line.

"It's about Skeppy."

It's as if his whole body froze. A spell bounding him to stay still with conflicting thoughts of two clashing forces. A tired sigh and slouched shoulders. The man with brown hair looked back at his bedridden best friend. It made his chest ache, a horrible thought settling in once again at the thought of losing his best friend when he had already lost one. One that was he was on a call with.

"How do you know about that?" Bad countered after his silence. He didn't like the lack of sound.

"Meet up with us and you'll find out. George will send you the location, 11 pm on the dot. Will you comply?"

It felt cocky as if a silent cheer had passed knowing that he didn't have control over the situation. It wasn't fair how they get to play him like this; dangling a treat on a hook right in front of his face. 

Yet, he could still decline. He could say no, block their number and stay away from them forever. This is what Skeppy advised him to do after all. "Forget them and move on, Bad. They don't deserve you." Gosh, if only the other was conscious right now, he could've stopped him from making this choice. Get him at the last minute and shake him out of this lucid dream.

But he isn't. He's laying in bed, unconscious from an accident that wasn't meant to be. 

His dulled green eyes staring back at Skeppy's unresponsive face. "Forgive me, Skeppy. I know I promised to stay away but," Bad bit his lip and with another breath, held his phone back close. 

"Where do we meet."

~

The place he arrived at was nowhere near what he expected. It didn't have the class that one would imagine people like them would be eating at. The whole restaurant was close to your casual diner, round tables with white countertops, sturdy wooden chairs with soft cushions on top - it was almost like Denny's but a bit better.

When Bad first walked in, he was curious as to why it seemed nobody cared that the Dream Team's dining in. It was as if they were regular crowds and not a couple of CEOs in a bigshot company. It almost feels like the past...

Except when he looked more closely, it wasn't normal at all. The whole place wasn't crowded. Maybe a group of four - including the D team - and they have noticeably low employees. After getting escorted towards the designated table, Bad realized that there weren't any actual customers in the place. They were bodyguards, each person wearing an earpiece and subtly wore a black shirt under various colours of jackets to try and 'blend' in. 

It made BadBoyHalo scoff. Have they really thought he wouldn't notice? The shady looks he received, wary and cautious. It was as if he was entering a forbidden place he wasn't meant to be in; Trespassing to a family reunion he has no correlation with. With the suspicious glare he got, he might as well be. 

"Right this way, sir." The kind waitress offered her practised smile quite never reached her eyes. 

Bad only nodded, muttering a quiet thank you as he followed here farther in the establishment. The hairs by his neck stood up and despite acting brave, he was still intimidated and scared, expecting the people around him to jump from their spots and slam him six feet under.

Entering the private dining room, Bad wouldn't admit that all his defences slid down upon setting his gaze to familiar faces around the clean round table. It certainly emits how time has passed, creases, marks, whatever signs it showed was there. Heck, Sapnap even has a faint scar going through his left eyebrow. George's much more advanced goggles and the slight cracks and chipped edges of Dream's porcelain mask that had previously been plastic made by yours truly. 

It's been ages, Bad knows this. He should be harbouring resentment towards the trio yet his concern for his friends seems to always prevail. He came in the room with walls up high; guarded to a fault. Ready for a confrontation with words sharp and recited to hurt for it to only melt on the tip of his tongue and instead wanting to engulf the three male in a big hug.

There was no hiding it, he missed them too much.

"BadBoyHalo, glad to see you actually went through. Please, take a sit,"

Whatever fairytale Bad thought was there has vanished in an instant. A swelling confusion, sense of sadness and surprise struck him when the foreign sentence escaped his friend's mouth. No, it wasn't his friend. Whoever the Dream team was in the past, they're not the same people sitting in front of him with an aura that demands order and structure. 

They all wore tuxedos and if Bad previously recall, they hated wearing formal clothes; opting for something casual instead.

The fallen walls were rebuilt in a minute, crossing his arms and his previous determination sparking back to life. Bad knows it will do him no good if he ever dared to reason with them. They might have changed but their stubborn nature is surely the same, if not, twice the dosage.

"I didn't come here for any small talks and something tells me you guys didn't plan to catch up either." 

The brunette saw the way George raised a brow, clearly not expecting the way Bad started their little meeting. If he had a problem with it, he decided to let it be. This meeting seems to be a lot more important than Bad had anticipated. Especially when none of them are starting off with a tease. 

The dream team looked at each other, a silent meeting passing between them as Bad felt more agitated the longer he stood there.

He really should've accepted the seat… nope, still too stubborn to. 

"We've heard about Skeppy's situation," a twitch on his finger, a hitch of breath. Bad could hear the intense pounding of his heart against his ribcage as flashes of images passed by his vision, all having a bedridden Skeppy on them. "And we've decided that we wanted to help."

…Help?

…Help?? 

Where have they been when he needed them the most? And now they're in front of him, reaching out to offer help? It's stupid! 

Bad glared harder than he thought he had, eyes drilling towards Sapnap who was the first to speak up. 

"What Sapnap's trying to say is that we are willing to pay all of Skeppy's medical bills. Everything."

If the whole situation wasn't suspicious enough, it surely was now. Willing to pay for everything? Surely, this was not a matter of 'helping' out. It's certainly more than that. Something out of place and not quite the right path. They want something in return, don't they? If he were to know his used-to-be best friends, it is that they don't just do things out of 'kindness'. 

A sense of dread passed through Bad knowing that they caught him in a corner. They know that he has no enough money to pay for the hospital bills. They know that this was the only way he would be willing to accept their blood money. 

If Bad doesn't accept, the chance that the rest of his friends get evicted from their homes are at a higher risk. If he doesn't accept the money, the cafe will go bankrupt. If he doesn't accept, Skeppy would—

They know they're being manipulative yet they're still doing it. 

With all the right reasons, Bad glared harder than before, this time aiming it to the three of them. "What's the catch?" His hands formed into fists by his side, gritting his teeth upon seeing the delighted expression that the three of them simultaneously carried.

Dream grinned - or at least Bad suspects he's doing - seemingly proud of the brunette's skepticism.

"Perceptive as always, Bad." he chuckled. "Of course, what we need from you will have to wait. There will be another time for us to discuss it. As for right now, all we need is for you to give us Skeppy's bills so we can pay the exact amount of his necessities." 

Not the one to back down, Bad stood his ground. "And what if I don't? I could always leave this place, you know? Forget that I even talked to you guys in the first place."

The blond with a mask clicked his tongue in a disappointed manner. Shaking his lightly yet the glint of his amused eyes never fade. 

"We both know that's not a choice."

And it wasn't, really. Not when he badly needs money in order to help his best friend.

George giggled. "Think about it, Bad. The biggest person we're prolly helping instead of Skeppy us you and the iDots." Sapnap gave a wide grin, cheering along with the idea.

"We can give you guys more money if you want—"

"No." The man would not stand for this. He is not some charity case for these so-called friends of his. Bad knows he isn't, "paying for Skeppy is enough." 

He could use the money. He'll save all of his friends with this!

Bad grumbled out a sigh, taking the paper and reluctantly placing it on the table which was picked up by Sapnap. BBH crossed his arms once more, scrunching his nose. 

"Is that all?" 

This time, it was Dream who answered for him. Giving an appreciative nod before calling over a guard into the room.

"We'll call you once we've made up our mind. Remember, you owe us, Bad. You knew of the consequences, thus, you will follow through."

  
  


Later that night, the brunette couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice. It felt like a lucid dream, realistic but not quite. Able to talk to the group once again despite their outlandish behaviours. He also could not help but think what kind of payment he would have to give in exchange to get rid of the thought that he was in debt from them. Was it all a threat? Another meeting with the guys? Would the next be the last time they'll meet? 

Surely it won't be.

Yeah, it won't be.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just found out that writing on G docs gives you a LOT of space in between paragraphs...

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Yes, welcome to my possibly darkest work out there! I'm testing out a field I'm unfamiliar with so excuse me TwT
> 
> In this story, I would be using their gamer tags to avoid some worried folks. Also, no, there would be no rape scene. The tag is only there because there is an implied scene. Will there be smut? I don't know. I don't really write smuts :/ but who knows, I might? (unlikely to happen) 
> 
> I guess there will be some BDSM stuff, (it was in the tags) and uh, yeah! If there are still questions about this 'Shadow World' feel free to ask, explaining stuff has never been my strong suit anyway and you'll slowly understand it when the story flows. 
> 
> Update Schedule: SLOW


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